


Lost In My Mind

by FrazzledSquidz



Series: Junior Year [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Jughead Jones, Established Relationship, Everyone gets their shit together, Getting Together, Mild Angst, Multi, archie/betty (mentioned), archie/veronica (mentioned), basically what season two looks like in my dreams, because i love their relationship, because sexuality is fluid, bughead (mentioned), but not romantically, everyone else is bi or pan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 02:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11327052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrazzledSquidz/pseuds/FrazzledSquidz
Summary: Everything appeared normal: Jughead had his laptop in front of him, a cup of coffee to his right, and the neon lights of Pop’s signs were a familiar shine along his cheekbones. He was typing frantically, forehead creased in concentration, except all he was writing, over and over, were the words, “don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t don’t fucking don’t freak out don’t-”Because he also had a backpack full of clothes and snacks and camping supplies tucked under the table, because he and Archie were finally going to take their road trip that got derailed last summer, but Archie wasn’t there yet.In fact, he was an hour late.





	Lost In My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> _I don’t want anymore heartbreak. I’m tired of the sound it makes._  
>  'Somebody' by Jukebox the Ghost

Everything appeared normal: Jughead had his laptop in front of him, a cup of coffee to his right, and the neon lights of Pop’s signs were a familiar shine along his cheekbones. He was typing frantically, forehead creased in concentration, except all he was writing, over and over, were the words, “don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t freak out don’t don’t fucking don’t freak out don’t-”

Because he also had a backpack full of clothes and snacks and camping supplies tucked under the table, because he and Archie were finally going to take their road trip that got derailed last summer, but Archie wasn’t there yet. 

In fact, he was an hour late. 

Jughead inhaled deeply, trying to keep the shake from it, as he focused on losing himself in typing. As he tried to concentrate on anything other than the burning thought of _not again not again not again._

He and Archie had been dating for about two months at that point, though the path they had taken to get there was long and twisting between Jughead and Betty dating, then Veronica and Archie, then Archie and Betty, and then Betty and Veronica. And then finally Archie and Jughead. By that point it was almost incestuous and Kevin had loudly and publicly declared them insane while also trying to get them to see that a poly relationship with the four of them would just be so much easier on him and their friendships and the high school and the town… 

Many good things had come from their frenetic back-and-forth dating, though. Jughead had discovered he was asexual while dating Betty, and she was extremely sweet about letting him know that she needed more out of a relationship but still wanted to be close with him. (They still texted every day.) Veronica and Archie’s relationship had been short-lived despite their best intentions, and afterwards Archie had finally asked Betty out. 

However, unsurprisingly, they had soon discovered that they were too close platonically to be romantically attracted to each other. Only once they had tried dating did both of them see that they would always be best friends, but that was it. Fortuitously, a little while after this discovery Betty had finally tightened her ponytail, kissed Veronica, and declared her love for the other girl. This had been a huge relief for Jughead, who had also accidentally befriended Veronica (through sardonic humor, razor-sharp wit, and unerring loyalty), and had been receiving increasingly dramatic and angsty texts from both girls. 

Jughead had found himself in a good place, despite everything. His dad had wound up being sentenced to prison for three to five years depending on his participation in the state penitentiary’s rehab and his general behavior. It was hard as hell, but they could both acknowledge that it might be the best for FP in the long run, plus Jughead was able to drive up and visit him almost every weekend. Additionally, the time FP was serving gave him the leisure to write long and heartfelt letters to his wife and daughter, even though the twelve year-old Jellybean was currently not speaking with him. 

Meanwhile, the foster family that had taken Jughead in had wound up being a great fit. They weren’t looking to adopt a teenage son as much as they were looking forward to the monthly checks from the foster care program, but it translated to Jughead getting all the freedom he desired and still having a meal waiting for him at their house for whenever he deigned to show up. He tried not to ask for much, but when he did they were generous when it came to offering new clothes, a better cell phone, or school supplies, and then they left him alone. It was perfect for him. (In return he did them the favor of hiding his Southside Serpents jacket at Archie's, just an honorary member for now.)

Jughead had also been made to stay at Southside High, but he could admit that it was the better choice. Not only was he less of an outcast based on appearance alone, but the classes were easier (which boosted his GPA), the school couldn’t afford a football team (so bye bye Reggie-types), and he got some time away from the toxic environment that had permeated Riverdale High. He was able to spend time with Archie, Betty, and Veronica without becoming tired of their company or socially exhausted due to his intensely introverted nature. It was a good balance.

Everything was finally… good. Great when compared to the soul-crushing events of last summer. Jughead had lost so much all at once: his family, his home, his best friend, what he thought he knew to be true of his hometown, and a million other small hurts that gathered like papercuts. It had felt like he had lost everything good about his life and it had all been completely, infuriatingly beyond his control. Jughead had the feeling that he had been standing at the edge of the cliff, screaming into the darkness, except no sound could be heard and nothing changed and no one came to help him, even as the cliff crumbled and gave way beneath his feet. 

Betty had been his saving grace. She had given him the school paper, a murder mystery to help distract from the bleakness of his own existence, long conversations with kisses and sweet smiles. Acceptance. Not that it had been perfect, but it had been really great. Jughead did love Betty, and had only grown to love her more once he came out to her and she, after processing the information with him and on her own, had honestly told him that she wasn’t sure about the direction of their relationship any longer. Jughead valued frank honesty in other people above almost all else, especially since one lie unearthed a hundred more in Riverdale those days. Everything had remained the same between them except for the cessation of kisses and hand-holding, and it was all he could’ve asked for. 

Meanwhile, and probably thanks to some interference from Betty, Jughead and Archie had slowly but surely made their way back to the friendship they’d had for so many years. They had become strangers to each other, and to themselves, the summer of their sophomore year, and despite their intentions it took them awhile to find their way to true friendship and understanding again. 

Archie had been the second person that Jughead told about his asexuality, using it as an olive branch in the hopes that their closeness would continue to grow. A few days later Archie had finally confessed his devastating confusion, heartbreak, and fear over what had happened with him and Ms. Grundy months beforehand. How could it be that he didn’t feel taken advantage of, even though everyone told him he had been? How could he reconcile certain terms ( _pedophile_ , _rapist_ ) with a woman he had looked up to and had had so much fun with? What if there was so much wrong with him that he couldn’t even see it any longer?

Jughead wound up spending most of his nights at Archie’s instead of at the fosters’, keeping his friend who was being treated like an adult and a child simultaneously from feeling lonely and lost in the weirdness that was life. They had fallen easily into an unspoken routine, and it was easy because they _knew_ each other, fundamentally, beyond all the bullshit. Archie knew when Jughead didn’t want to talk and instead had to write all of the mess in his head down, just as Jughead knew when Archie either needed time alone with his guitar or someone to interact with and burn some of his manic energy away. 

Jughead’s favorite nights usually involved takeout from Pop’s, dinner with Mr. Andrews and all of his easy paternal love and concern, and then hours spent up in Archie’s room with the redhead sitting at the edge of the bed, engrossed in a video game, while Jughead lay behind him, reading a book with his socked feet resting against Archie’s broad shoulders. Easy and casual intimacy that demanded nothing from the other person, except their presence. 

Nothing had really changed when Betty and Archie finally started dating, which probably should have been a sign to everyone except for the fact that they were all wrapped up in the drama that Hiram Lodge had brought to Riverdale and, more importantly, to Veronica’s life. 

There had been a terrifying couple of weeks where it was almost certain that Veronica would be taken back to New York, despite her insistence at staying in Riverdale. That had involved a lot of things that Jughead associated as Rich People Problems (RPP for short), such as trust funds, mind-bending legal jargon, Big Business practices, and something about New York state law that he still wasn’t quite sure he understood, or even wanted to. 

That had been how Veronica and Jughead became close. She would text him at some point during the day something to the effect of, “Hey Donnie Darko. Tell me something horrible to keep me from drowning in my own self-pity.” This would follow with about half a day’s-worth of sarcasm and snark, accompanied by Jughead eventually telling her some pessimistic truth of the world, and then even more teasing even though they both agreed that the world was terrible and would probably burn soon. Except Archie and Betty were okay. Sometimes. Even though they were too bright-eyed and optimistic. 

Veronica was the only person that called Jughead by his real full name, unironically, and constantly. Meanwhile Jughead called her Margo for reasons that no one except him understood. (If pressed for information, he would inform his friends to become more “cinematically-competent” and then get back to him with their thoughts, which never happened.)

Jughead was shaken from his musings and blind typing by a waitress pouring him another cup of coffee, jarred by the sudden proximity of a person he didn’t know or trust. He nodded at her in thanks as she moved away and immediately took a sip of the scalding liquid. He checked the time on his laptop even as his brain simultaneously told him _no don’t-_

Almost two hours. 

Jughead took a longer drink of coffee, burning his tongue and hoping to disguise the shininess of his eyes to anyone who might be paying attention to him. The plan was that Mr. Andrews would work a half-day, Archie would borrow his truck and pick Jughead up, and they could finally make up for their long-lost road trip. Jughead was desperately trying not to think about this time last summer when he had sat at this very booth for almost twelve hours, hoping against hope that his best friend would show up, that he hadn’t forgotten or abandoned him, that Jughead still mattered to him. 

But Archie hadn’t shown up that night. And Jughead had slowly walked back to the drive-in, his family having been shattered three weeks before, stone-faced as he carefully and exactingly destroyed any feeling that tried to rise up in his chest. He _refused_ to cry. The very first night spent at the drive-in he had allowed himself to sob freely, to mourn the loss of his family and home. Jughead had told himself that that was it, it couldn’t get any worse for him; he had hit bottom. 

Oh he had been so, so wrong. Life had gotten significantly worse in almost every way. But then, inexorably, it had started to get better, bit by bit. And even though Jughead needed a significant amount of alone-time and valued his independence, he could admit that a lot of it had improved because of his friends. Because of what he went through with Betty, his developing friendship with the clever Veronica, and because he and Archie were learning each other again; something that was somehow both easy and difficult from a childhood growing up together. 

And then, suddenly, Archie had to go and make his life even better, which he honestly hadn’t thought was possible. 

“Jug, can we talk about dating?” Archie had asked him out of the blue, about a month before the end of the school year. He had been sitting at his desk, guitar in his lap, probably trying to look casual even though Jughead knew his fidgeting was purely nerve-driven.

“In general?” He had raised an eyebrow over his laptop screen, trying to lighten the mood. “If this is about B and V finally getting their act together, you know I fully support them and all of their aberrant lesbian fantasies.”

“What? No,” Archie had sighed, sitting up. He’d put his guitar to the side and laced his fingers between his knees, left foot bouncing rapidly. “I want to talk about us. And us getting _our_ act together.”

Jughead had blinked. He often forgot that Archie had the ability to surprise him, in ways both good and bad. Recognizing this as a Serious Moment, he had shut his laptop carefully and put it further down the bed. “Is this an ‘I wish I knew how to quit you’ moment?” Just because he’d known Archie had wanted to be serious didn’t mean that he had to be. 

Archie had snorted, shaking his head and grinning ruefully. “I know you think you’re being funny by quoting a movie, even though I never know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Jughead had scoffed mightily. “I’m the funniest person you know, Andrews.”

“Among other things,” Archie had replied quietly, suddenly wiping his palms along his jean-clad thighs and standing up. “Juggie, I think we should date,” he’d blurted rapidly as he crossed his arms in front of his chest tightly. 

Jughead had stared up at him for a long, breathless moment. He would have accused the other boy of joking, had he not known him so well. And also if Archie hadn’t look completely fucking terrified. Jughead’s heart had sped up twelve times inside of his chest and he’d felt mildly sick, so he’d defensively thrown out another quote. “‘In- in the quiet words of the Virgin Mary… Come again?’” Except it had come out soft and stuttery and a little sad. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it, but he’d had no idea that his best friend had ever even entertained the notion. 

Archie had sighed heavily and crossed the room, sitting beside Jughead on the bed. “I know you probably think I’m crazy, but- but I think we’re perfect for each other. Juggie, the only time I ever feel totally happy and carefree is when I’m with you. Like, I look forward to coming home every night and knowing that you’ll probably be here to make stupid jokes and try to get me to sleep on the air mattress and lose at video games. I- I fucked up so bad last summer when I abandoned you and I’ve never felt okay about it since then, and when I’m with girls all I do is think about you and what you’re doing and when we can hang out again.” His large hands had been a mass of knots between his knees, twisting with vicious nerves as he’d babbled. “I just- I think about you all the time and Betty and Ronnie always make fun of me because you’re all I talk about anymore and if you don’t want to date me that’s totally okay, I would understand, but… but I had to say something just in case you, you know, do want to. Date me.”

Jughead had felt he was probably having a stroke or a nervous breakdown or something. His brain had been a mess of static and his stomach had been trying to crawl up his throat. But Archie’s big brown eyes had looked up at him beseechingly and pierced through him, realigning everything he thought he’d known. “Arch…” He’d reached out, resting a hand over Archie’s tight and twisted ones, needing him to relax. “You know I’m ace, right? I- I don’t want to have sex. And not just with you, but with anyone.” Jughead had bit the corner of his lip, feeling the need to bare his soul as much as his best friend was. “I’m not wired right, Archie,” he’d told him softly, voice cracking. “Something went wrong with my design. I don’t like sex, I barely like people, I spend all my time alone and trying to distract myself from the real world. I- I don’t… I don’t know how to _do_ this.”

A soft frown had creased Archie’s features as he’d untangled his hands, looping one around Jughead’s and holding it tightly. “Jughead, you’re wrong. You were ‘designed right,’ or whatever. Just because it’s different doesn’t mean it’s wrong. And- and I know all that other stuff, okay? I know _you._ I’ve known you your whole life. And I know you’re ace and that’s okay. I still want to date you. I want to be with you. We can figure out all the rest of that stuff later, right?”

“Archie,” Jughead had groaned, standing up and shaking his hand free to cross the room. He’d hugged his ribs tightly, simultaneously trying to hold himself together and wondering if it was possible to just drop dead right there. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, okay? And I know, because I know _you._ I know you like sex and that, if the girls are to be believed, you’re good at it. You deserve someone like them, not someone like me.”

“What do you _mean_ someone like you?” Archie had demanded, standing and throwing his arms out. 

Jughead had turned to face him, relieved. Anger he knew. And Archie’s had always fueled his own. “Are you kidding me, Andrews? Open your eyes! I am trailer trash that came from trailer trash; I have no future! I’ll graduate high school, I’ll never be able to afford to go to college, I’ll live and work some minimum-wage job in this tiny fucking town writing novels that no one will ever read until I drink or smoke myself to death! _That_ is how my story goes. Meanwhile you will get a scholarship for college and will play football but will also get to play music and you’ll meet a lot of amazing people just like you and you will move out and up and actually _be_ someone! You have a whole world ahead of you!”

“What are you _ever_ talking about?!” Archie had run his hands through his hair in frustration and then, in two great steps, crossed the room and had grabbed Jughead by the shoulders roughly. “Jughead Jones you are the most stubborn, bitter, pessimistic person I know. How can you have so little faith in yourself? Listen; do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do. You. Trust. Me?”

Jughead had sighed, feeling worn out and exasperated. “You know I do, Arch.”

“Then trust me when I say this: you are so much more than you think you are. And Betty and Ronnie can see it too, so you’re just going to have to fucking have faith in us. And you’re going to have to believe _me_ when I tell you that you’re wrong about yourself, I love you just as you are, and that I do want to be with you. And if you don’t want to be with me that’s totally fine, but you’re still wrong and I still love you.”

Jughead had swallowed convulsively, blinking wetly. Once he’d found his voice, he was able to quip, “God, do you ever shut up, Andrews?”

Archie had smirked weakly. “Hey, I get to be right for once. I gotta gloat as much as I can.”

 _A leap of faith…_ teased a movie quote bubbling up in the back of his mind. And so, gathering all of his courage haphazardly within his breastbone, he’d told Archie, “You… you should kiss me instead of being a sore winner.”

It had been like the sun burst into life on Archie’s face. “Really?” he’d asked, even as he had stepped closer.

Jughead had rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms to wrap them loosely around Archie’s back. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

God but Jughead had missed kissing. Archie was obviously completely different than Betty, but the actions had been familiar and soothing, as were the feelings behind them. Archie’s large hands had come up to cup his jaw as he brushed his lips across Jughead’s over and over, excitement and happiness radiating from his whole being. Jughead had felt weak from the force of it.

He’d twisted some of Archie’s t-shirt around his finger as they separated and he’d met his brown eyes seriously. “I- I am going to fuck this up at some point. I still don’t know how to do this, Archie.”

The other boy had laughed a little. “You think I do? Jug, I’m not worried about it. You’re brilliant and I love you and we’ll figure this out, okay?”

Jughead had sighed, though he’d failed to keep the happiness from it. “‘It’s a fool that looks for logic in the chambers of the human heart.’” 

“Shut up,” Archie had whispered fondly, drawing him back in for another long, sweet kiss. 

But he wasn’t here. He wasn’t at Pop’s. 

He had ditched Jughead. Again. 

Jughead clenched his jaw and looked out the window, blinking back threatening tears. Oh he was so, so angry with himself. He had known better than to open himself up and put all of his tender insides at the mercy of someone else’s whims, but he had gone and done it anyway. But even as he thought this, he felt the desperate need to text Betty. Or Veronica. Or both. Except he had let his cell phone die and had left it at his foster parent’s house, wanting to completely disconnect from the world while he and Archie were traveling. 

Betty understood deep, still darkness. The kind that lay in the back of minds, waiting for people to fall in while they were distracted. Jughead wished he could text her now, let her know that he was paying attention to the still waters but was still considering jumping in anyway. 

Because, despite his misgivings, he and Archie had wound up being great together. Not that it had been easy, trying to navigate different ideas around intimacy and their lives in their small town, but it had been good. It was almost as easy as being with Betty, but this time Jughead knew who he was and wasn’t trying to pressure himself into liking sex. Archie also knew him, so Jughead was able to be as snarky and as biting as he wanted to be, and the redhead always knew that he was doing it out of fondness and not malice. Archie spoke Jughead’s language fluently.

Jughead slammed his laptop shut, shoving it in his backpack viciously. What did it matter if Archie spoke his language if he never fucking showed up when he was supposed to? Jughead stood, tucking a few dollars under the coffee cup stained with hours’-worth of refills, and shouldered his backpack heavily. He wished, now more than ever, that his drive-in was still open. He needed a safe, private place to go. He needed to be away from the world for awhile, maybe forever at this point because what did it even matter anymore? 

Jughead stepped out of the dinner, squinting into the afternoon sunlight, and was immediately distracted by rapid footsteps. Because, of course, here was Archie Andrews running toward him from across the parking lot. 

He frowned at the redhead, in nothing more than a sweat-soaked gray t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. His shoes weren’t even tied all the way, which was just ridiculous. His hair was a wild mess and his face was bright pink, and Jughead was able to put the pieces together even as Archie finally reached him.

“Jug!” he gasped, swallowing air like he’d been drowning. He grabbed Jughead’s shoulders, gripping them tightly as he panted. “Juggie I didn’t- I didn’t forget, I didn’t abandon you again, oh god I swear I didn’t-”

“Andrews,” Jughead cut in sharply, gripping Archie’s elbows and feeling the trembling muscles beneath sun-tanned skin. “Calm down. If you hyperventilate and pass out on me I swear to god I will dump you. Literally and figuratively, got it?”

Archie nodded shakily, sweat dripping down his temples and rolling along his jaw. He straightened up and squared his shoulders, tipping his head back to open up his airway wide, wide. His fingers knotted into Jughead’s shoulders, clutching at his shirt and his backpack strap, forcing him to stay right where he was. 

Not that Jughead could have moved even if he’d wanted to. His knees were shaking so hard he was surprised they weren’t knocking together and his relief was making him dizzy, black spots dancing at the edge of his vision as his brain realigned everything that had and hadn’t happened in the last two hours. 

“Let me guess,” Jughead offered, voice quiet even as his fingers dug into the tender spots at Archie’s elbows, “because you’re fucking predictable, Andrews. You slept in because you never know when to go to sleep, then you woke up and realized your dad was working late. So you waited for a little bit and then decided to be a ginger Usain Bolt and ran all the way across town because you couldn’t wait and you’re an idiot and a show-off. You couldn’t even tie your damn shoes?”

Archie swallowed, nodding rapidly, still panting. “I- I woke up about an hour ago. My dad had texted that he would be late but I slept through it. I tried calling you, Juggie, I swear, but it kept going right to voicemail. And then I couldn’t get ahold of my dad again so I just… I came here. I couldn’t- I couldn’t imagine you sitting here and waiting and thinking that I, that I had-”

“Oh give it a rest,” Jughead snarled. “Come on, let’s get you some water.” He pulled away, but caught Archie’s hand in his as he lead him into Pop’s. 

Their fingers bleached of color as they squeezed each other tightly. Archie pulled Jughead into the same side of the booth, keeping him close even as Jughead asked a waitress for a pitcher of water without ice. 

He watched silently as Archie drank back two tall glasses, his adam’s apple bobbing in time with his long swallows. After he finished his second glass he started drinking at a more normal pace, the pink slowly fading from his face. 

“Relax,” Jughead murmured, bringing up a free hand and pressing it across Archie’s hot forehead. He’d been wearing the same stricken, terrified look since he’d found Jughead in the parking lot. “You’re gonna turn into a shar pei at this rate.” 

Archie sighed, shaking his head. “God, Jug, I was so afraid I had just fucked everything up. _Again._ And just when everything was so great with us. I'm so, so sorry.”

Jughead sighed, twitching the hand that Archie still had a deathgrip on, tucking his other one beneath his thigh. “Don't apologize. It wasn't your fault, not really.”

Archie shook his head again, staring seriously into blue eyes. “I am sorry. For making you doubt me, or us, for making you think I hadn't changed. For freaking you out.”

“I don't ‘freak out,’ Andrews. That's your specialty.”

“I saw your face,” Archie told him quietly, his own drawn back in sorrow. “When I came up to you in the parking lot. I'm so _sorry._ ” 

Jughead felt himself closing down, shutting out what Archie was trying to articulate. It was instinctual, because despite knowing, logically, that Archie hadn't abandoned him, he was still trying to come to terms with the fact emotionally. 

He leaned back a little, consciously slowing his breathing. There was nothing he wanted more than to get away from this situation, hopefully with humor though flat out running would work, too. But he couldn't do that. Jughead and Archie had promised each other honesty, no matter how much it sucked, so they wouldn't fall apart again.

“I'm sorry,” Archie repeated quietly, so earnest it was painful. 

Jughead swallowed and glanced around the diner, trying to calm his rabbit heart. God he hated this. “It's- it's not that I don't trust you, okay? I just…” 

“I know.” 

Jughead tapped their joined hands against his thigh, trying to rapidly sort through everything running through his mind. It was too much, though. “Look, Arch,” he sighed, meeting his eyes again. “I can't do this right now. Can we just… go? Can we just finally go on our road trip like we planned a literal year ago and camp under the stars and I'll figure my shit out later?” 

Archie smiled, looking terribly fond, and nodded. “Whatever you want, Juggie. I’ll text my dad to come pick us up?”

“What, you don't want to run all the way back?” he teased, figuring his way back to familiar ground. 

He pulled his phone out of his gym shorts with some difficulty. “Oh sure, with you riding piggyback?” Archie snorted, his thumb tapping rapidly across his phone screen.

“You need to workout more, anyway.” Jughead watched him text, then leaned over and pressed a kiss against Archie's cheek. “Oh gross; you're all sweaty and dirty. Why did I do that?”

“Cause you love me,” Archie replied easily, turning his head to peck Jughead's cheek in return. “Okay, my dad will be here in ten, we'll get my stuff, then hit the road.”

“Uh, you're showering first, Andrews.”

Archie laughed, tucking his phone back in his pocket. “Fair enough.” He rested his weight against Jughead, his sweaty head against his shoulder, sighing deeply. 

Jughead rubbed his thumb over Archie's knuckles, peace settling over him like a winter blanket. After a few minutes he asked, “What were you working on that kept you up so late, anyway?”

“Music for our trip, a song for you, packing, that kind of stuff,” Archie mumbled, sounding tired. 

Jughead inhaled shakily, trying to breathe through the swelling in his chest. “You're giving me a bad case of the feels, you know.”

Archie laughed, bright and sharp.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a Head and the Heart's song with the same name.  
>  _Put your dreams away for now,_  
>  _I won't see you for some time._  
>  _I am lost in my mind,_  
>  _I get lost in my mind._
> 
> \--
> 
> Movie quotes from Inception, O Brother Where Art Thou, Snatch, and Brokeback Mountain.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
